


Anakin the Prince

by MrRhapsodist



Series: Sweet Domestic Star Wars Saga [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: ABDL, Age Play, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Diapers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Naboo Royal Handmaidens (Star Wars), Platonic Cuddling, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrRhapsodist/pseuds/MrRhapsodist
Summary: Anakin is surprised to learn that Ashoka, his former apprentice, has wound up in Padmé’s service as a handmaiden. But Ashoka is equally shocked to discover the secret that her new mistress and former master have been keeping from everyone behind closed doors.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Sweet Domestic Star Wars Saga [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942525
Kudos: 5





	Anakin the Prince

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him leaning so casually on the doorframe. Ashoka had only managed to put Padmé down for a nap in her crib—no small feat, considering the woman’s height on her—when she realized she wasn’t alone. At first, she smiled and offered a whispered hello to Dormé or Ellé.

“Well, Snips, fancy seeing _you_ here.” Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and war hero of the Republic, shot her a merciless grin. “Guess you found a new place to work?”

“An-Anakin...” Her mouth twitched. Ashoka shook her head, feeling her montrals quiver with a fear she hadn’t felt in a long time. “This, um, isn’t what it looks like—”

“Oh, really?” Sauntering into the nursery, Anakin glanced at the sleeping Padmé. He kept his voice low, but friendly. “Because what I’m seeing is Senator Amidala, dressed like a little girl, being put down for a nap. By my former student, no less. It’s so...” He flashed a teasing grin back at the young Togruta. “Curious!”

They stood less than a meter apart from each other, in a nursery with soft lighting turned down for Padmé’s nap. The whole space, Ashoka realized, was darker than the Temple entrance where she and Anakin had last seen each other. He had stood alone, sad and unable to help, as she left the Order under a sunlit, cloud-filled sky. Now they stood together, reunited in an oversized nursery filled with stuffed animals, a wardrobe of lace-lined dresses, and a changing table with lotions and diapers. The moment couldn’t have been more comical, were it not for Ashoka’s rapid-beating heart.

“Relax,” Anakin murmured. He snuck a glance over at sleeping Padmé, and his whole face softened. Ashoka knew that look, even though she’d spent years holding back what she knew. “I’m in on the secret, believe it or not. And you, I think, are sworn to her service as a royal handmaiden?”

“That’s right.” Ashoka tightened the belt around her crimson-and-gold robes. “I serve at the Senator’s pleasure.”

“Well, I’m sure she won’t miss you for an hour, right?”

“I don’t know if—”

“Ashoka, come _on._ ” Anakin grinned, nudging her shoulder. “Won’t kill you to have a drink with me, right? We’re both off-duty, as it were.”

Glancing back at the crib, Ashoka hesitated. Her duty to the Senator—to Padmé—told her not to go. But in her heart, the warmth in Anakin’s voice touched something small and secret there. An old wound that might actually begin to heal itself faster than four months in Amidala’s service had already done for her. And when she saw the roguish smile on his face, Ashoka couldn’t help but think back to the numerous close calls they’d shared out on the front lines.

What was one more between friends?

“Okay, Skyguy,” she whispered, stepping away from the crib. “But _you’re_ paying for this round.”

“More than happy to, Snips.” Anakin offered his electro-mechanical arm, whirring beneath the long black glove he wore. “Shall we?”

* * *

A short airspeeder ride took them downlevel to a small cantina on the edge of the Senate District, one where Obi-Wan had once mentioned several backroom deals between politicians were made. It was a quiet place, muffling the chatter of dozens of beings with artificial waterfalls, imported Alderaanian vines along each door, and the silent servomotors of astromech droids wheeling around drinks and food with lightspeed efficiency.

Anakin found them a table in the back, far from public view. He smiled at the green-and-gold droid who rushed to take their order. Then, glancing at Ashoka, he leaned over and activated a console on the underside of the table. The light between them and the rest of the cantina went dim by a few degrees.

“Privacy screen,” Anakin explained. “That’s the real reason this place stays in business.”

Ashoka nodded. “Makes sense. But I didn’t think you’d like spots like this.”

“Normally, I don’t.” Leaning back in his side of the booth, Anakin grimaced. “But, well, there’s a certain someone who likes to have dinner here when we can both get away.”

“It wouldn’t be Senator Amidala, would it?”

Anakin’s head snapped around, fast as a blaster bolt. “She _told_ you?”

“No one told me anything.” Ashoka shrugged. She let a smile play across her face. “I’ve, um, had my suspicions for a long time. The way you two talk to one another—and about each other. And the way you’re always rushing to make sure Padmé is safe on a mission.”

“Damn.” Anakin rubbed at the back of his neck, a sheepish grin written across his face. “And here I thought I was being subtle...”

“It also explains how you knew about the secret nursery.” Ashoka folded her arms across her chest. “Not that you and Padmé aren’t good friends, but I figure you’d have to be extra close to know about something like that. I’m pretty sure Obi-Wan or Chancellor Palpatine wouldn’t know about a thing like that.”

“As far as I’m aware, they’re in the dark.” A shadow passed over Anakin’s face. “And, for what it’s worth, Snips, Padmé would like to keep it that way.”

“You realize I’m in her service, right?” The Togruta grinned. “I’m already sworn to secrecy.”

“Uh, right.” Anakin shook his head, laughing. “Well, um... keep up the good work, then?”

Ashoka had to laugh as well. And with good timing, as the serving droid returned with drinks and a platter of Mon Calamari spice rolls. Anakin broke the mood with by raising his glass and clinking it with Ashoka’s. While sipping at the brandy cocktail she’d ordered, she had to admit she’d developed a taste for liquor while in Padmé’s service. Her time getting to know Ellé and Moteé had led to a few late-night drinks and laughs as they swapped stories in the penthouse.

“So,” said Anakin, munching on a spice roll, “has Padmé let you into any _other_ secrets?”

“Why do you want to know?” Ashoka narrowed her eyes. “I thought _you_ were in a relationship.”

“Oh, well, as husband and wife, sure, but—”

“I’m sorry, as _what?_ ” Ashoka stared wide-eyed at him, her glass nearly spilling across the table. She hastily set it down and wiped at her mouth. “You... you and Padmé are _married?_ ”

“For at least two years now.” Another shadow passed over Anakin’s face. He leaned forward, both arms resting on the table. “You, uh, have to understand. The war had only just started. Padmé and I knew we were in love, and we didn’t know where things would end up with so many Jedi who’d fallen at Geonosis.” His mechanical hand tightened into a fist. “So, yes, it’s been a secret to the whole galaxy, but it’s true. We’re married. I wish she’d told you herself.”

“I... I don’t...” Ashoka shook her head slowly. “I don’t believe it. How did I not realize it?”

“We’re good at keeping secrets, wouldn’t you say?” Anakin winked before taking a sip from his own drink. “I’ve seen her give speeches in the Senate, and not _one_ person ever picked up on the fact Padmé was wearing a diaper under all her gowns and robes.”

“Yeah, well,” Ashoka replied, blushing a little, “it’s not any of _their_ business, is it?”

“Exactly.” Anakin sighed, his hand cradling the side of his face. “Wow. It feels good to talk to someone else about all this. I wish we’d told you sooner, Ashoka.”

“Me, too.” Fiddling with a spice roll, Ashoka popped it in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. The flavor she liked, but the texture was too rubbery for her taste. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Since you and Padmé were a couple already, you knew about the nursery. And how she likes to be, um, little?”

“Right.”

“So...” Ashoka paused, swallowing the last of her spice roll. She took one more glance over at the dim flare of the privacy screen, only to ensure it was still active. “So, that’d mean you have been involved with Padmé when she’s little, haven’t you?”

“From time to time.” Now it was Anakin’s turn to blush and glance away. “Truth be told, it doesn’t happen as often as you’d think. We don’t get to see each other enough as it is. The war and the Senate tend to spoil our time together.” His face hardened. “Believe me, Ashoka. If I could end this whole business in one fell swoop, I’d take it. No questions asked.”

“I believe you,” Ashoka answered, drawing back a little. She hated this side of her friend, when he went dark and bitter. The war kept finding new ways to bring it out of him, and she’d worried for his stability ever since the day she left the Jedi Order.

If Anakin fell, she knew something in the Jedi—in the Republic—would fall with him. But she prayed to the Force that it’d never happen.

“But you _do_ get involved, right?” Ashoka managed to add. “I mean, when Padmé turns little?”

“Oh, sure.” The grin that Anakin wore reflected enough relief for the both of them. It was like seeing the sun break through a dense layer of clouds on a windy day. “She knows me as her big, strong ‘prince.’ Sort of like a father figure, but more, well...” He grinned. “Handsome, I’d guess.”

“Prince?” Ashoka snorted. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.”

“I’m not, though!” Anakin shot her a knowing look. “What does she call _you,_ huh? Nanny?”

“I’m ‘Soka,’ most times.” The Togruta shrugged and picked up enough spice roll. “I’m kind of a babysitter or a playmate. Making sure she’s warm and dry, keeping her company while she plays with dolls or watches something cute on the holovids. Dormé and the others tend to be more like her big sisters or aunts.”

“Yeah, they’ve had more practice at it.” Anakin chuckled. “Well, you asked, didn’t you?”

Ashoka frowned. “I sure did.”

Her mind slipped back to the nursery, to where she imagined Padmé stretching out her arms, yawning—and looking around in confusion. Her poor sweet girl, sitting in the crib in a frilly pink dress and a wet diaper, searching for a familiar Togruta. But she could also imagine Anakin, tall and handsome by _his_ own estimation, showing up to cradle her, change her, and rock her on his lap. He’d been good with younglings and clone cadets for as long as Ashoka had known him.

Why would his time with little Padmé be any different?

“I think we should be getting back.” Ashoka glanced at the wrist chrono under her sleeve. “The Senator will be needing me.”

“Right, right.” Anakin switched off the privacy screen. Once it dropped, an astromech droid came racing over, aiming its holoprojector to present the bill. “Duty calls. Right, Snips?”

* * *

Padmé Amidala had the largest, loveliest brown eyes Ashoka had ever seen. She also had quite the scowl when Anakin and Ashoka showed up at the nursery. Having docked at the veranda, the Togruta knew something was up when a jittery Threepio shuffled over to them and whispered, “You may wish to hurry, Master Anakin, Mistress Ashoka. The, er, Senator doesn’t appreciate being kept waiting!”

Swallowing, Ashoka had led the way, with Anakin strolling casually behind her. She knew it was an act, of course. He was far more at ease in the middle of blasterfire than in personal disputes.

Now they stood with face-to-face with a frowning Padmé, who rubbed sleep from her eyes and sat awkwardly in her handmaiden Moteé’s lap. Glowpanels in the ceiling had switched to full power, revealing a tired face, a bunched up yellow dress under a bedrobe, and the outline of a fresh diaper underneath it all. But even being changed hadn’t improved the Senator’s mood.

“Ani,” Padmé bit out. She slipped one arm around Moteé’s shoulders to steady herself. If her handmaiden was uncomfortable, she didn’t show it. “You might have left a message. No one even knew Ashoka was gone until Threepio told us you were here.”

“Well, excuse _me_ for wanting to have some alone time with an old friend.” Anakin spread out his arms. “I didn’t see it as worth waking you up for.”

“That’s beside the point! She knows how I get when I...” Padmé’s eyes fell to her lap. “How my little side gets, I mean. If she’s not there, I start to panic. I don’t _like_ that side of myself, but it’s there, Anakin. I thought you understood that.”

“M’Lady,” Ashoka interrupted, stepping forward and bowing. “You don’t have to blame him. It’s my fault. I take full responsibility for—”

“Hold on a second. It’s so obviously _my_ fault here.” Anakin shot a dark glare in her direction. “I dragged you off, Snips. And if the _Senator_ has an issue, she can be upset with me alone.”

Padmé watched their exchange, all while clinging to Moteé. She brushed some of the silken hair out of her eyes and let out a tiny huff. It would have been adorable to Ashoka, were it for the utter frustration clouding her mistress’s face.

For a long time, Padmé and Anakin locked eyes in total silence. Ashoka knew it wasn’t any kind of Force bond. She could see it in their guarded expressions. And as she watched, she realized how often she’d seen this same energy, being in the same room as them, and never picked up on the truth of their love. That deep-rooted, nervous tender feeling that grasped at both their hearts, begging to be alone together in a galaxy consumed by war and despair. She’d felt much the same, but with no one to share those feelings.

Ashoka watched as, ever so slowly, Anakin’s face collapsed into a mournful frown. He lowered his head, hands on his hips, and sighed.

“Padmé, I’m sorry.” He paused. “You’re right, of course. I should have warned someone before running off with Ashoka.” Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, Anakin lifted his head to meet her gaze. “For what it’s worth, she knows everything now. I felt I owed her the truth.”

“You told her?” Padmé glanced between her husband and her handmaiden. When her eyes settled on Ashoka, she softened toward a sad smile. “I wish I’d done it sooner. Ashoka, please forgive me for not letting you into my complete confidence. You’re my friend and ally, and you deserve that and so much more.”

The Togruta nodded. “I understand. Thank you, um, M’Lady.”

“I’m just Padmé in here.” A grin flashed across the young woman’s face. “Isn’t that right, Soka?”

“Right!” Ashoka beamed at her. “Do you need anyrhing else, then, Padmé?”

Turning to Moteé, the Senator frowned. “Do you suppose you can spare some time for her?”

The handmaiden inclined her head. “Of course, dear.”

With that, Padmé stood, leaving the other woman’s lap to cross the room. She paused when she reached Anakin’s side. Her slim hands reached for one of his biceps and squeezed. He grinned and patted her hand, and it was the most loving gesture Ashoka had ever seen from him. But when Padmé came closer to her, her big brown eyes met the Togruta’s with a familiar glint.

“Can we cuddle now, ’Soka?” Padmé whispered in a lisp. She held out her arms.

Ashoka nodded. “We sure can, little Padmé.”

As the evening wore on, Anakin hung around the nursery, admiring his wife’s little side with his elbows resting on his knees, wearing the biggest grin ever. Ashoka had her arms full all night, with Padmé curled up in her lap, nuzzling her montrals and sucking on a pacifier. There were diaper changes, bottle feedings, and bite-sized dinners to dole out, but everything was warm and secure inside the hidden nursery. Ashoka hummed a lullaby she knew from her family on Shili, watching the proud Senator’s eyes flutter shut as she snored and shifted against her chest.

When she caught Anakin staring, Ashoka could only grin back. He smiled, nodding as if she were being let in on one more big secret.

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally going to add more Jaina/Tenel Ka fluff to this series, but I had an idea to bring Anakin into the Padmé and Ashoka dynamic, so I found myself writing this instead. If you'd like more in this vein, let me know. I'm also open to anything from the sequel trilogy (my distaste for _Rise of Skywalker_ notwithstanding).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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